


plans of affection

by miraculousandcute (hellomyoldheart)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, established relationship fic, starting off the new year with fluff and sin and angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 23:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5605099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellomyoldheart/pseuds/miraculousandcute
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien had been idly swinging his legs, itching to start his plan, and now he crossed his ankles behind her. The crossing point slid up as he dragged Marinette closer to him. The scowl was not gone. Adrien expected it, though—he had a few more steps to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	plans of affection

**Author's Note:**

> i have a slight obsession with the image of adrien wrapping his legs around marinette’s waist. i wanted to try making it more of an affectionate, comforting action rather than a sexual one, so that basically created this. they still end up making out though. of course. enjoy!

“Are the cotton balls behind you?”

“I think so.” Twisting his arm back, he blindly slapped his hand along the counter he was sitting on. It was a bit obnoxious, to be honest, but that’s what he was going for. “Hmmmm around here somewhere.” Adrien felt the corner of the bag crumple under his hand, and then he promptly swept it off. It landed with a soft puff just to the left of Marinette’s feet. She had been crowding him just moments before, focused on the wound on his throat and avoiding his stare, but now she leaned back.

First she looked down, scowled at the bag, and then locked eyes with him. Bingo.

Adrien had been idly swinging his legs, itching to start his plan, and now he crossed his ankles behind her. The crossing point slid up as he dragged Marinette closer to him. The scowl was not gone. Adrien expected it, though—he had a few more steps to go.

Step 1: Comfort.

In other words, wrap himself around her like a snuggie. He draped his arms across her shoulders, one hand petting the back of her neck. His fingers traced a soothing, repetitive pattern across the skin. The tension in her shoulders waned, just a bit, and he cheered in his head at the small win. Being partners for six years really helped translating the small motions and hidden words. Like now, Marinette’s eyes were telling him _you are such a moron_.

“I appreciate the hug, but can I please get back to disinfecting?” A cool finger traced the skin just beneath the jagged gash.

He had gotten lucky…at least in some aspects. The cut was torn up enough to eventually leave a good scar, but his suit had caught the worst of it. They wouldn’t have to get out the needle and thread this time. It had been quite a scare, though—sometimes he forgot about that sliver of skin exposed just beneath his jaw. Plagg had even rubbed his own tiny neck after transforming back. It had been an incredibly lucky hit, as in incredibly _unlucky_ for him. Like usual.

Marinette hadn’t taken the blood running down his neck very well. His need to comfort her after she caught site of it had almost completely overshadowed his own pain. Life would be perfect if he never again had to see her blue eyes, which should have looked beautiful and luminescent reflecting the moonlight, broken up with worry, horror, and utter _agony_. But they led dangerous lives, and he knew he could never make that promise to himself.

“Adrien? Does it hurt?” Her fingers were now on his forehead, caressing the lines that had appeared from his inner struggle. Ah, right. He had a wonderful, caring woman to cheer up.

Step 2: Distract.

“Sorry, princess. I was just wondering where we should go tomorrow. Six years of kicking ass is pretty exciting, don’t you think? So maybe we should match the mood.” He tapped a finger against her shoulder in mock thought. “Bungee jumping? Paint ball?”

She sighed and granted him one of her _looks_ , eyebrow raised and mouth curled. There was some amusement there, and he soaked it up, oozing the Chat Noir charm. Leaning in slowly, he brushed his lips against her right brow, ignoring the sting that followed the move. Her eyelashes fluttered against his chin, and he dragged his lips down so they closed. Her hands, which had kept to themselves as soon as he started his plan, clutched his thighs. There was no stopping his smirk in response. _Victory_. Adrien took his time placing small kisses on both eyelids and dragging his lips across her cheeks and brow.

“Or,” he purred, “we could stay in and make some excitement of our own. Hm? _My lady_.”

Marinette’s breath stuttered against his neck, and he flinched at the slight sting it left on his wound. His movements froze for just a second, but luck was on his side for once—she didn’t notice. Marinette’s head titled up, his lips sliding down her cheek in response, a silent gesture he recognized. _Get on with it already._

Oh, how he knew his lady. Six wonderful years it had been, with this kind of intimacy only occurring in the last half. But friendship had its own charms as well, and he didn’t regret a second of it.

Step 3: Adore.

“Marinette,” he whispered. There was a hum, almost a whimper, in response. “I love you.”

She sighed and lifted her hands to wrap around his back, pulling him to her.

Step 4: Kiss her, dammit.

Their breath mingled and then became one when they finally kissed. Adrien went right to it and nipped her bottom lip, biting it, pulling softly. A silent question. She smiled and branded a line down his spine with her finger. The sensation was wonderful, and he ended up gasping first, a breathy chuckle blending with the action. God, she was good.

They switched control, back and forth, their lips and tongues teasing and bruising. Tingling thrills crept down from his lips, and his toes curled when it finally seeped through his whole body. They broke for air, Marinette resting her forehead against his, but he found his lips itching for more. He knew exactly where he could get the reaction he wanted. Adrien ducked his head and pressed his lips to her throat. His mouth opened just beneath her jaw, where the skin was smooth and unscarred unlike his own—his eyes snapped open. _Shit._

Hands were placed firmly on the chest, and she pushed him back. He knew, just a second too late, that when he brought attention to the area, Marinette’s thoughts would echo his own. Damn his love for the sounds he coaxed out of her when he kissed her neck. _Idiot, moron, nitwit_ …

“Adrien Agreste.”

His back straightened, and he looked down at the woman in his arms. If he was in costume, his ears would have drooped at the glare she was giving him. He had been so close…

“I know what you’re doing, kitty, and you need to stop. This is not about me. This is about you almost getting your stupid _head_ chopped off and scaring me half to death with all that _stupid_ _blood_ and—“ Her breath caught, and she stared at the floor. “J-just give me a se-second. Stupid cat.”

“Oh, Marinette, shhh.” He cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheeks. There were no tears yet. “Please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t move fast enough.”

Adrien refused to push her, giving her the space and control she needed. But it was so, incredibly hard not to bring her to his body and cradle her. So hard not to comfort her in one of the few ways he knew how.

Scooting back a bit, he brought his legs up on the counter and crossed them.

“Can I hold you? Please?”

Marinette backed away, and there was a sudden gripping pain in his chest. She crouched down, out of his site for a long moment, and then his outstretched arms were full of his sweet Marinette. There was no awkward shifting as she lifted herself onto the counter and curled in his lap, resting her forehead against the unmarked side of his neck. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite ways to hold her close, and he took advantage of it whenever he could. Adrien gathered her as close as possible and kissed the top of her hair.

“Marinette. I’m sorry, so sorry,” he breathed. Then inhaled sharply when his wound flared with pain.

“Stupid cat.”

Adrien glanced down to see her dabbing at his neck, the bag of cotton balls resting against her stomach right next to the forgotten disinfectant. Sighing, he tipped his head back to make it easier for her.

“I just wanted you to stop looking so sad,” he muttered.

There was a light kiss placed on the skin below the cut, right where she had traced earlier.

“I appreciate it, Adrien, but let me take care of you.”

The tension and worry left his shoulders as he exhaled. His hand crept under the shirt riding up her hip, and he stroked the soft skin. Comforting her, because he needed to do something. No matter how small, he still needed to touch her, to show how grateful he was for her love and care.

“Whatever you want.”


End file.
